


In the grip of a hurricane, I'll just blow myself away

by MsThing (Hieiandshino)



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:49:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hieiandshino/pseuds/MsThing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sloan Sabbith, books, autographs, (thunder)storms, tornados, hurricanes and Don Keefer's internal rantings.</p>
<p>(Unrevised work)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the grip of a hurricane, I'll just blow myself away

**Author's Note:**

> _The Newsroom_ does not belong to me.
> 
> English isn’t my first language and this fanfic wasn’t revised, so if you see any mistake, please let me know!
> 
> Spoilers of _Election's Night Part II_.
> 
> Title based on _Florence + The Machine _'s[song](http://www.metrolyrics.com/hurricane-drunk-lyrics-florence-and-the-machine.html). Original: "I'm in the grip of a hurricane / I'm gonna blow myself away"__

She comes in like a storm.

Don doesn't really know much about storms, just the average he learns here and there from the weather forecasting, but he knows how to distinguish one from another. Sloan enters the broadcasting room like a thunderstorm ( _confident, slightly angry and decided to do_ something) or like a tornado, aiming for the destruction of a city, like that time with the guy named Scott. It was _amazing_ , but now it's a little scary.

She opens a book Don knows a little too well, ignores Mack and starts writing something, big, black and fast — like the men she goes out with. They all fit perfectly the ideal of football players, minus the whole black guy because this is a veiled form of prejudice hidden underneath a common occurrence of people of color in sports. Don hates to say or think things like this, but he is only human and watching what he says and thinks is pretty much hard when it’s election night and there is Sloan with a guy that is far too young and far too athletic and tonight they can't make a tiny fucking mistake—

—it's her _name_ , and Don gapes like a fish when he realizes. And that's her _book_. She is signing her book inside the broadcasting room.

_Shit_.

So it's bad. Tornado-Scott-thunderstorm _bad_. It's terrible. She realized he bought her book; realized he faked the god-awful bidding just so she won’t feel humiliated; spent a thousand bucks on it just so she could _smile_. He read the book and it’s great. Or at least he thinks it is, since Don can’t understand shit about economy, but it’s Sloan and she never does things that aren’t at least impressive. That’s why he bid on her book, after buying a copy at a bookshop, even if he already had pre-ordered one and Don is a stalker. Shit.

But, hey, it’s not like he didn’t read. Like he said ( _or thought before_ ) he did read _Hyperinflation in the Weymar Republic: The Economics of Post-World War I Germany_. Don even marked everything he didn’t know to research later and that may be the reason why he bought the second book. The third one was just to help her, and maybe to have a piece of Sloan on the first pages, telling him, in German, to have a good read. It ended up being Gary who wrote it, and wished something a little nasty, but alright. A thousand bucks aren’t that much — not if compared to the quantity Don is suing/being sued by Jerry Dantana.

And now he's going to have a fourth one. In his face.

She closes the book, a loud, angry thud that echoes in his ears and Don wants to say something, anything. All he is able to do is a movement with his hand, that is meant to say, weakly, ‘I have a reason, I’m sorry, let me explain myself’, but she is fast even wearing those shoes and, before Don knows, one of Sloan’s hands sneak around his head, a slap that hurts a little but that brings his face towards hers.

She kisses him.

Everything stops and he decides thinking isn't necessary and the elections can go to hell for a second. Don just wants to kiss her back before reality and second thoughts come crashing on them.

( _her kiss is violent, hurried, passionate and there is practically no tongue. He loves it. It's the same fury she had for Scott that night, but now it's just passion passion passion. Like a storm. A thunderstorm. A tornado._

_A_ hurricane).

Sloan breaks the kiss and Don chases her lips for a second, before understanding now isn’t the time. Before he is able to say something or even look into her eyes, the _Hyperinflation in the Weymar Republic: The Economics of Post-World War I Germany_ crashes against his chest. She walks out of the room slowly, like an impressive, rapidly-rotating storm¹ that will, hopefully, rotate again to fall in his arms later.

As he makes a joke and Mac screams loud enough to break the stupor left by Sloan — except on him, who’ll smile like an idiot for the rest of the night, Don realizes three things:

One, he is awesome and super romantic on his stalking. Two, asking Sloan out will be _so much easier_. And three, he just won a new book.

**Author's Note:**

> ¹ — _rapidly-rotating storm_ was taken out of the Wikipedia’s page for [Hurricane](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tropical_cyclone).
> 
> First fanfic of Newsroom. Hope it isn't that bad! If Don is a little like me, you bet he rants like mad when he is on a tight situation.
> 
> I suck at English prepositions, sorry!


End file.
